


Baking with Werewolves

by madameofmusic



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, imagineyourotp prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-25
Updated: 2013-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-30 11:19:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1018000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madameofmusic/pseuds/madameofmusic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Prompt: "Imagine you OTP making cookies past midnight in their pajamas. While the cookies are baking, they get distracted, and end up burning them. So instead, they go to a grocery store (still in their pajamas) and pick up some cheap cookies, then come back home and cuddle on the couch while they watch a cheesy horror movie until they fall asleep."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baking with Werewolves

Waking up to the smell of something burning was not the strangest way Stiles had ever been woke up before.

Seeing his boyfriend in an apron and standing over a smoking oven certainly wasn’t the least pleasant either, and definitely made him laugh. Pink didn’t do Derek very much justice.

He watched Derek have a staring match with their oven for a few moments before clearing his throat, drawing Derek’s attention to himself. “You do know it’s 2:00 in the morning right?”

Derek looked embarrassed, and he rubbed a hand over his face and the back of his neck before speaking. “Yeah, I- was looking. At stuff. From before the fire, that was saved.” He sighed heavily and bent over to draw a tray of charred… somethings, out of the oven.

Stiles stepped closer and shut the oven before rubbing a hand across Derek’s shoulder blades. “Do you bake as a coping mechanism or something?”

Derek snorted and pulled one of the baking gloves he was wearing (Stiles would dwell on the image of his boyfriend in an apron and baking gloves later, when it wasn’t the middle of the night.) “No. Found a recipe for cookies in the stuff… I thought I’d try it out.”

Suddenly it made a lot more sense to Stiles and he let out a quiet chuckle. “Right. Okay. I think you put them in for a few minutes too long.”

Derek huffed and flashed Stiles a look before directing his gaze back down at the tray dejectedly. “You think?”

Stiles poked at one of the cookies, which were hard as rocks and going to be extremely difficult to get off the tray. “What did you do? Forget about them?”

Derek shook his head. “No, I… I think I switched the numbers.” He said, frowning heavily. “Put them in for 31 minutes, instead of 13.”

Stiles laughed, shaking his head and picked at the mess. “It didn’t occur to you that half an hour was a little bit of a ridiculous length of time to bake cookies?”

Derek glared at him, and turned his head away. “I don’t bake.”

“Apparently not.” Stiles picked up the tray and set it in the sink. He looked at them for a few seconds longer, before turning back to Derek. The other looked a bit put out. “Hey. It’s okay. You wanna try again?”

Derek’s eyes flicked to Stiles. “Are you going to help me?”

Stiles nodded and walked over to where there were still ingredients piled on the counter, and picked up what he assumed was the recipe. “Sure. It doesn’t look too hard.” He agreed, scanning quickly over the recipe.

“Yeah. I’d like that then.”

They shared a smile for a moment, before Stiles tossed the used mixing bowl to Derek, who caught it with a grunt. “You’re on dish duty Betty Crocker. Clean that out so we can use it.”

Derek caught it and arched an eyebrow. “We’re gonna try right now?”

Stiles shrugged, back turned to Derek as he separated ingredients. “Sure. Why not? We’re already awake, tomorrow’s Sunday. We’ve got time.”

Derek nodded his agreement, and Stiles went back to separating and measuring out the ingredients that they would need. He dumped them all into the bowl, and occasionally dictated what Derek needed to do as well, which were the only words passed between them until everything was put together and mixed.

Stiles showed Derek how to measure out even proportions, and then made sure to set the timer for the right length of time. “Alright. Now we wait.” He tugged on Derek’s shirt and nodded, his head towards their living room. “Wanna see what they play on TV at two in the morning while we wait?”

Derek followed him, and looped his arm around Stiles’ shoulders once they were both settled down. Stiles clicked through the channels, until he finally settled on a rerun of one of those old cop shows.

They both began to doze off, leaning against one another as the TV played quietly in the background. Luckily, the timer was loud enough to wake up Derek, who then in turn woke up Stiles before they screwed up another batch.

“They don’t look half bad.” Stiles commented once they had pulled them out. “I mean, definitely better than take 1 huh?” He teased. Derek flicked him, before picking up one of the treats, which he promptly dropped.

“Ow, fuck! Hot!” He shook his hand out and stuck his fingers in his mouth.

Stiles rolled his eyes and patted Derek on the shoulder. “Good job Sherlock.” He untied the apron from around Derek’s waist and set the gloves on the counter. “C’mon. Let’s go to bed. We can test them in the morning.”

They both collapsed into bed at was now almost three-thirty. Stiles mumbled sleepily about Derek smelling like a bake shop as he settled in, tucking his head under Derek’s chin.

“Stiles?”

Stiles made a noise of inquiry, eyes closed as he was on the verge of sleep already.

“Thank you.” Derek mumbled, pressing a kiss to Stiles hair. Stiles smiled and patted Derek’s chest, before dropping off to sleep completely, tired from baking escapades.

* * *

 

As it turns out, perhaps leaving a full sheet of cookies on the stove in a house that was accessible to a bunch of perpetually hungry werewolves wasn’t the best idea.

When Stiles walked into the kitchen and saw the pack gathered around the table, empty tray in between them, all he could do was sigh and shake his head. He heard Derek let out a small noise of frustration behind him, and knew instinctively he was glaring at his pack.

Scott held up a cookie, and smiled guiltily at the pair of them, an expression similar to the rest of the wolves sitting in the kitchen. “There’s one left if you want it.”

Stiles turned back to Derek and grinned, patting the other’s frowning face. “At least we know they were good, right?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of failed at filling the prompt but whatever.  
> I got the burning cookies part right.  
> Hope you enjoyed reading it still. Expect some more fills in the future!


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